


The Power of Suggestion

by Companionable



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, Pre-Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 19:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2785631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Companionable/pseuds/Companionable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking together after work and lessons, Nilesy says what they're both thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Suggestion

**Author's Note:**

> got whacked in the head by the image of 100% Canon Sub-Boys drinking together and talking about That Hot Fae Lord that they both really wanna bang. was then pestered into posting it, so enjoy!

“No, no, no William, see--here’s the thing.”

Nilesy is waving his beer around, somehow managing to keep all the precious alcohol inside it’s amber bottle, and Will thinks it’s mildly hilarious--but that could be the alcohol in his own system.

“Here... is the thing, William, y’see,” he says again, then tips the bottle up to his lips and takes a long drink, before dropping the bottle back onto the bar-top and look him dead in the eye, “it would be _so_ good.”

Will’s face is warm, though from the intoxication or Nilesy’s suggestion, he can’t be sure. “No, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t. It would be a bad idea all around.”

Nilesy makes a face. “You sound like Lomadia.”

“ _Don’t_ say that, Nilesy, don’t tell me I sound like my aunt, dear _Gods_.”

“Well, y’do.” He sits up straighter, puffing out his chest and wagging a finger, before he opens his mouth with a ridiculously high-pitched, affected voice. “Nilesy, what have I told you about doing literally anything without my say-so, eh? Do what you want but don’t ask me to say I told you so!”

Will snorts, taking a swig of his own beer. “She doesn’t sound like that.”

“Uh, excuse me, Strife, but I don’t think you’ve quite heard her when she’s talking about Kirin bloody Dave, alright?” Nilesy settles back into the tall bar chair, pouting hugely as he takes a drink. “She bloody hates him, which makes my awkward boners a real damn problem.”

“Gods, Nilesy, I don’t need to know stuff like that, alright?” He rests both his elbows on the bar, rolling the beer bottle around in his hands. “How did we even start talking about this, this--”

“Master plan to get us both some incredibly fine fae arse before he eats our very souls?”

He looks sideways to quirk an eyebrow, but shrugs. “I was going to say ‘Incredibly ill-conceived ploy that will almost certainly end in tears, if not bloodshed,’ but I can see where the appeal in your phrasing lies.”

If he stops long enough to part the haze of alcohol in his mind, he knows how this happened. Nilesy works at Kirin’s greenhouse and had started working later hours just as Kirin has started bumping his lessons with Will up earlier. Their paths seemed to cross a lot more frequently now; left alone in the greenhouse for great spans of time together while Kirin fetched something or other, passing each other on their way through the threshold of the shop, exchanging extended greetings in the doorway until Kirin yells at them to close it, sent out on errands for him together or to shops next to each other. Naturally, a camaraderie had grown between himself and the spellworker, not purely by virtue of sharing a workspace and mentor.

Though Nilesy had quickly sniffed out that their mentor had a fair bit to do with their common ground.

“Gods, that man is going to be the death of me someday, I can already hear Lomadia shaking her head in dismay over my fresh grave,” he’d said one day on one of their errands, Will carrying planter’s boxes full of sprouts in careful potter’s soil out into the heat of the city’s summer, while Nilesy dragged a hand through his long black hair like someone had just told him he’d won the lottery.

“It’s just an exchange-delivery job, Nilesy, he’s not being unreasonable,” Will had tutted with a click of his tongue, gesturing for him to pull his weight and carry one of the boxes himself.

Nilesy shook his head. “You know what’s unreasonable, is that _body_. And, particularly, that body in concert with that terribly fond smile.” He pouted fully, scrunching up his nose. “Bloody unfair.”

Will had coughed and spluttered, startled to hear his own private thoughts echoed somewhere other than inside the confines of his head. “ _What_?” he’d asked, incredulously, just about the only thing he could think to say.

They turned a corner onto a quiet side-street, off the main roadway, and Nilesy leveled him with a sceptical glance. “Oh, come on, Will. Be serious. You can’t tell me you haven’t looked at all that and thought, at least once, ‘ _Damn, I’d like to bang that like a toe off the coffee table_.’ Honestly, tell me I’m not alone here.”

“What the hell kind of euphemism is that!?”

“One where you bang hard, fast, and so brutally everything throbs for hours afterwards,” Nilesy said casually, loud enough that Will was looking over his shoulders at passers-by to be sure they hadn’t heard. “You’re avoiding my question though. You have, haven’t you? Thought about it?”

“What,” Will hissed in frustrated and embarrassed exasperation, “climbing Kirin like a tree?” Carefully, he rearranged himself and ungrit his teeth. “Maybe. Once or twice, not that it’s any of your business.”

The other man had laughed, full and honest and bright, and William began to wonder if his friendship with him was wise. “The speed of that response says something else entirely, but I’ll let you have that. We’ll not talk of it anymore, then. Let’s get these delivered so I can head back, Lomadia won’t be pleased if I’m late.”

Will had assumed, naively, that Nilesy’s interest had been sated and the topic would be dropped. So when Nilesy had popped by his uncles’ house to invite him out for drinks (“At none of the fae bars in town, Mr. Xephos, I promise, I will have him back by curfew, please do not let your husband stick his pick-axe in me,”) Will hadn’t thought much of it.

“Listen though,” Nilesy tries again, and Will takes a bracing swig of beer and finds it empty far too quickly, subtly hailing another from the bartender. “William, you’re not listening, you’re _attractive_ , I’m nothing short of a _catch_ , and if we used our wiley wiles together to put the moves on him--”

Will snorts. “You just called them ‘wiley wiles,’ Nilesy, you are _hammered_.” Nilesy opens his mouth to protest, and Will bonks him on the head with his unopened beer. “I thought you were smart, do you honestly think _we_ can pull one over on _Kirin_?”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Nilesy points the neck of his bottle at Will. “Not exactly, but we can _probably_ get Kirin to think he’s pulling one over on us, if we try hard enough.”

“I’m starting to see why Lomadia is so concerned for you, you’ve got a death wish.”

“William!” he whines loudly, pouting his huge pout. He can’t hold it for long though, as he and Will break into giggles, snorting into their beer bottles and knocking them back.

Will directs them onto other matters, talking about Nano and her Lalna and the things they’ve overheard Kirin muttering about them, about his uncles and their iron clad threshold and what to get Xephos for his birthday that isn’t just ‘more candles’. Eventually though, when his bottle is once again nearly empty and the conversation has lulled, he hums and says, “Maybe.”

“Hm? Maybe what?”

“Maybe... I don’t know. I think I--I feel like it would be... safer? To try it with you.”

Nilesy presses arched fingers to his chest, fluttering his eyelids. “Why, Mr. Strife, are you proposing to experiment sexually with me? Because I am _all_ for it, I’ve some things I could show you--”

He splutters out into a cackle, and Nilesy nearly chokes on his beer laughing at him. “ _No_! No, I mean-- at least, not right--” he stops, taking a deep breath, “I was talking about... about the Kirin thing. Fuck, I just. Yeah. If we’re a team, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? We can take him, right?”

“Oh, William,” Nilesy says, resting a heavy arm on his shoulders and tapping the neck of his bottle against Will’s, “we can _totally_ take him. Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: they cannot take him, poor dears.


End file.
